Defeat of the Bandersnatch
by Mylos
Summary: On mission, while camped in the woods, Aramis returns to a behavior Athos and Porthos thought he was done with. They figure things could turn out all right, just so long as they can keep him from stabbing anyone, himself included.


Written for this lovely prompt:

_Maybe we already had this, but I want more sleepwalking Aramis._

_Bonus for:_

_- Porthos putting on a brave face but secretly fretting that someone will wake Aramis up when he's wandering around which, as everyone "knows", could mess a man up in the head_

_- Someone suggesting - jokingly or not - that they tie a string to Aramis (attaching the other end to one of them) while they camp in the forest so that he won't wander off and get lost_

_- Aramis "working" in his sleep; mending coats or cooking (if they're on the road with a camp fire going). Gold star for him being a better cook when he's asleep than he is awake._

Obviously I did not get all the elements in (at least not in the way requested by the prompter) but when I put the prompt into my brain with my muse and shook it, this is what came out. Also, I get no gold stars - no cooking happens, asleep or awake, by anyone. Which is a little sad. And, if anyone does know of any other stories with sleepwalking Aramis, please point me in their direction.

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_**Defeat of the Bandersnatch**_

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Athos woke blearily, some noise or sound swishing through his ears and putting his teeth on edge. Cautiously, he lifted his head from the folded saddle blanket serving as his pillow and glanced around.

"Shh," hummed Porthos softly, sitting tensely on the balls of his feet with his back pressed to one of the oak trees they'd camped beneath. When their eyes met, he lifted a finger to his stiff lips and repeated the sound. "Shh."

Sitting up completely, Athos groped for his dagger, blinking his eyes as he stared into the dark. "What's going on?" he whispered, finding his boots and getting his feet underneath him.

Dragging a deep breath that somehow made him seem absurdly frightened, Porthos pointed. A few steps beyond where d'Artagnan lay sleeping, Aramis was standing amidst the birch trees, twisting in silent maneuvers with his sword - his parrying dagger clutched tightly in his other hand so that the baleful moonlight glinted silently off both blades as he turned.

"He's asleep," said Porthos.

Athos felt his insides warble and breathed tightly out through his nose. He held his breath as Aramis spun again, executing a thrust and block. "I thought we were past this. He hasn't had an episode in years."

Suddenly, d'Artagnan rolled to face them. "He's done this before?" he whispered.

"How long have you been awake?" asked Athos.

"Longer than you. I didn't drink half the wine last night."

"Cheeky," replied Athos without breaking expression.

D'Artagnan smiled and sat up higher, but his eyes were worried, glancing from Porthos to Aramis and back again. "He's done this before?" he repeated.

"Once or twice," mumbled Athos, watching Aramis round a tree and sweep his sword in an arch, silent and graceful, and terribly asleep.

"Bit more than that," countered Porthos. "For a while, Athos used to make him sleep with a string tied around his wrist while he tied the other end around his own, just to keep track of him if he tried to wander off."

D'Artagnan's eyebrows lifted.

Athos shrugged. Following onto the path of Porthos's blunt honesty, he kept his voice low. "Sword practice is not all he would get up to. Occasionally we'd find he'd repaired all our shirts during the night, and if it was just that, we may not have minded, but more than once we found he'd wandered beyond an hours' walk away from us, and in bare feet besides. The string seemed the most logical solution."

The sudden memory jolted him and caused his eyes to hone back in on Aramis, fixing in on whether or not he had his boots on, and then biting back a curse when he realized that he didn't. Undressed feet skimming over stones and sticks, collecting bruises and abrasions without thought.

"And if we try to wake him up..." d'Artagnan began hesitantly. "Are we... are we afraid he'll go batty?"

"I'm more afraid he'll skewer one of us alive," growled Porthos softly. "Or trip in the process at the surprise and stab himself in the eye."

D'Artagnan grimaced slightly before he twisted his head back to watch as Aramis fought shadows.

Feeling carefully for his own sword, Athos drew it out of his belt and rose from his crouch.

"Athos," Porthos cautioned.

"Talking to him works sometimes."

"Rarely, and even when it does, he never makes sense."

"If he thinks to do battle," Athos replied calmly. "There is no reason he should do it alone."

Bracing himself, Porthos slid up the tree until he was standing with the trunk still at his back, watching grimly as Athos strode past him.

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**tbc**

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Additional note for those who are unfamiliar with it: "Bandersnatch" is taken from the poem "The Jabberwocky" by Lewis Carroll, more elements of which are likely to find purchase in this story before I finish it.

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If you love it, let it show! :)


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